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babybeeelle · 15 hours ago

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Hiii, long time no see. I was writing a different story, but I wasn't satisfied in the direction it was going so this just spouted from my brain. This was based off a request, but I'm dramatic so I amplified it :)

Summary - When Agatha's grief causes her to lash out at the reader, she hurts them deeply.

Warnings - Agatha needs therapy, mention of self-harm scars, near-death experiences, and detailed? suicide attempt.

Word count : 4400+

a/n - Very important Warnings. The is a very detailed fic. Please please please read them and make a safe decision to continue reading💖

What's Said and Done

You didn't intend for your reminiscing of Nicky to trigger Agatha the way it did. You had hoped that maybe the decades upon decades spent grieving together created a safe space to talk about the short, but treasured time you all had with Nicky. You craved to fill the hole his death left with the precious memories that had filled your heart with joy. You wanted that for Agatha. You wanted to mend the corrupted memory of him. He deserved to be cherished.

It was obvious now Agatha couldn't. You knew that unadulterated grief that was entangled into her loving soul very well. You thought her forgiving Rio, inviting her back into her heart after two centuries, meant that she was in a stage of grief where she would want to talk about him.

You had so many memories of Nicky etched into your heart, moments that glowed like a lighthouse in the violent weather of grief.

The day he first came into your lives, his tiny hands were gripping tightly to your fingers as Agatha held him, and his wide, curious eyes darted around the unfamiliar space in the bedroom of the little cottage you shared.

Rio had been cautious at first. Viewing his birth from the door frame, knowing she was going to be the one who would lead him to the afterlife before he could truly live.

Yes, she created him, but she also knew the possible complications of creating a precious life unnaturally. But when Agatha looked at her, tears brimming in her eyes as she nodded her head, she could see Agatha was thankful for giving her the time he deserved. To Rio, the pain would be worth it.

Anyone could tell Nicholas was made from Rio. The resemblance was uncanny as he grew older. His facial structure mirrored hers perfectly, from his sharp jawline to the delicate angles of his cheekbones. His eyes a warm chocolate, filled with mischief, were identical to hers. Even down to the smile lines that shined so brightly with his perfect smile. He truly was a mirror image.

There were the little everyday moments that had became everything.

Rio kneeling in the backyard, dirt smudged on her cheek as she pressed her hands to the soil, coaxing life from the earth. Nicky crouched beside her, his tiny fingers buried in the dirt, eyes wide with awe as delicate petals bloomed before him. Every time a new bloom appeared, he’d clap his hands and turn to Agatha with Rio's smile.

Then there were the nights Agatha loved most. She would sit on the edge of his bed, her hands glowing with a soft purple light as galaxies lit across his bedroom ceiling. Stars twinkled, planets drifted in slow, mesmerizing orbits, casting his room in a cosmic glow. Nicky’s small hands would reach up, tracing constellations only he could see, his laughter light and full of wonder.

It was all the things Agatha didn't want to remember.

Her shoulders stiffened while she was putting away laundry. “Why?” Agatha asked finally, her voice low and clipped.

You frowned, caught off guard by her tone. Feeling the sudden change in energy, you began to rub your scarred arm, a self-soothing habit you picked up when you began to feel on edge. “Why what?”

“Why do you have to bring him up?” she said, halting the chores. She turned to face you as you stood beside her. Her eyes were trained on yours, unwilling to break eye contact. “Do you think that helps? Reliving every little memory like it’s going to bring him back?”

The words stung, but you took a deep breath, willing yourself to stay calm. “I don’t bring him up to hurt you, Agatha. I just... I miss him. I thought maybe we could talk about the good times, try to focus on—”

“On what?” Agatha snapped, her voice rising. “On how he was never ours to keep him? How we couldn't heal him? On how everything we tried wasn’t enough?” She slammed her hand on the dresser in agitation causing you to jump, eyes-widened as your breath was caught in your throat from surprise. “Because that’s all I see when I think of him.”

Your heart clenched as you watched her unravel, the grief in her voice morphing into anger. “It wasn’t your fault, Agatha,” you said quietly reaching out for her hand. “It wasn’t anyone’s fault.”

She laughed bitterly, shaking her head as she avoided your touch, crossing her arms defensively. “Of course you’d say that. You always have to be the understanding one, don’t you? Always so composed, so...forgiving”

Her words hit like a slap, but she was being unfair. “You’re not the only one who lost him, Agatha. I lost him too. And Rio—”

“Don’t,” Agatha interrupted, her voice cutting through the room. “Don’t you dare bring her into this.”

The tension between you thickened as your shared grief and unresolved pain collided.

“Why not?” you challenged, ready to defend. “She loved him too. We all did. And maybe it’s hard for you to see, but she’s been trying, Agatha. She’s been trying to make things right with you.”

Agatha's lips curling into a bitter smile. “Trying?” she repeated mockingly. “Trying to what? Pretend like everything’s fine? Pretend like she didn’t—”

“Like she didn’t what?” you demanded as you cut her off, beginning to believe she had never truly forgiven Rio. “Say it, Agatha. Whatever it is you’ve been holding in, just say it.”

Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, her body trembling with fury. “Like she didn't take him from us. He’s gone, and all you can do is sit there and talk about him like that’s going to fix anything.”

You stared at her, a silent conformation of your theory. "It wasn't her fault and you know it. He was our boy too," you whispered in defeat. You weren't sure if she had even heard you. But her response showed you she did.

"It wasn't her fault?"

But before you could respond, she delivered the blow that shattered your soul.

“He was never your son,” she said, her voice sharp as she looked at you like you were nothing to her. “Not you. Not Rio's. He was my son. I'm the only one that did anything and everything to keep him alive, and here you are defending Rio like you always do,” she spat out with a sneering expression.

The words hit you hard. You felt physically sick. Your breathing was shallow like Agatha's words were constricting your lungs.

“No,” You protested, your voice breaking. Your eyebrows scrunched as your eyes shone with tears, searching Agatha’s face, desperate for any sign that the woman you loved hadn’t truly meant those words. “You don’t mean that."

Agatha’s expression hardened leveling down to look you straight in the eyes. “I mean it from the bottom of my heart,” she seethed, annunciating every word. “God, I can’t even look at you. It's pathetic. You have no right to be crying right now.” Pushing past you, she walked to the door like your very presence disgusted her.

You staggered back a step, clutching the edge of the dresser to steady yourself. Your tears fell freely now.

“Where are you going?” You asked, your voice thick from crying, inadvertently pleading for her to stay.

“Anywhere but here,” Agatha bit without looking back.

With that, she stormed out, her footsteps echoing down the stairs. The back door slammed shut moments later, leaving the house in a suffocating silence.

Letting the dam crumble, you clasped your chest, trying to ease the ache that felt like it was tearing you apart from the inside.

Your legs seemed to move on their own, carrying you to the bathroom in a haze.

As you stood in front of the bathroom mirror, the reflection staring back at you felt foreign, like someone you barely recognized. You searched your own face for something, anything, that might explain why you weren’t enough. Why Agatha couldn’t bear to look at you.

"How could anyone love you?" that dark, familiar voice in the back of your mind whispered. It had been gone for a while, but it has returned making its mission to demolish all the progress you've made.

You gripped the edge of the sink so tightly that your knuckles were turning white. Agatha's words echoed endlessly.

"He was never your son." "Not you. Not Rio. He was mine."

The venom in her voice, the disgust in her eyes—how could she say something like that? How could she not see how much you loved him, how you would've given everything if it meant saving him?

You couldn't wrap your head around it. She couldn't actually think that of you, right?

The intrusive thoughts came in waves, each one dragging you deeper into despair.

"She doesn’t want you anymore. She'd be better off without you. Rio too." You squeezed your eyes shut, as though it could stop the endless spiral.

The thought of Rio did it for you. Rio’s face flickered into your mind. Her eyes, usually filled with warmth, was devoid of any love for you. She's death, literally. She is a cosmic being, and you are so...ordinary. You didn't have a sharp, captivating aura like Agatha who demanded anyone and everyone's attention the second she walks into a room.

Your love wasn't worth all the pain. You weren't worth all the pain. You're a burden to them.

The weight of those thoughts pressed down on your chest, making it hard to breathe. You needed both of them. There was already a piece of your heart missing, but Agatha and Rio kept your heart from crumbling. You wouldn't survive that pain again.

You glanced down at the sink, where droplets of water had leaked from the faucet. For a moment, you began to visualize your arm as the faucet, slowly leaking blood.

Your gaze shifted back to the mirror. The self-hatred hit you like a tidal wave. How could they love you? Agatha’s words weren’t just anger—they were confirmation of your deepest and darkest fears. That they didn't need you the way you needed them.

The familiar ache in your chest morphed into a dangerous mission. You opened the drawer beneath the sink, your trembling hands rummaging through its contents until they found what they were looking for. You hesitated for a moment, pausing as you were unsure if this is what you wanted. You had been so good, so happy. Then you remembered what your reality had shifted to.

It was a little purple jewelry box. It once held the ring on your finger from a day you'd never forget. A vow of a love that would be everlasting. But as you opened the box and found the blade hidden within, none of that mattered anymore.

Freeing it from the packaging, you noticed it still had the same sharpness from the last time you used it, and the glint made your stomach twist in anticipation.

The blade felt cool and familiar in your hand as you slowly sank into the cold, empty tub, the icy surface sending a chill down your spine. You hesitated again, gripping it tightly, the thoughts racing through your mind almost convincing you to stop. But one reason kept you convinced: you were doing this for them. This way, you could take the burden of yourself off their shoulders. You were doing them a favor.

With a shaky exhale, you glided the blade lightly across the center of your arm, testing the waters. The first cut was a shallow line that only allowed little bubbles of blood to come to the surface, but the sting grounded you nonetheless.

With more urgency, you pressed down harder, carving another line into your skin. Blood welled up, slowly making its way down your arm like a raindrop rolling down a window.

Taking a deep breath in, you moved the blade down to your wrist where you knew the blood would really flow. As you exhaled, face scrunched, you swiped quick and deep, finally getting to the point where you knew you did damage.

But it wasn’t enough. You craved balance, symmetry. You mirrored the cuts on your other arm, your movements growing more frantic, wanting you're relief to come faster. The tears flowed in rhythm with your blood, causing a hysterical laugh to escape from your throat.

Your vision swam as exhaustion began to set in, your body growing heavy. The pain that had once felt grounding now dulled, your consciousness blurred. It never really dawned on you who would be coming soon.

On cue, a familiar presence filled the room. The usual warmth was now an unwelcoming cold. Her usually composed demeanor was gone, replaced by wide-eyed panic as she took in the scene before her.

“No, no, no, no,” Rio panicked, her voice raw and breaking as she kneeled beside the tub. Her hands were trembling as they hovered over your wounds.

“You can’t do this to me. I won't do it. I refuse to take you,” she cried out in anguish as tears streamed down her face, denying her duty as Death, denying the natural order.

Her hands glowed a faint green as she pressed her palms to your arms. A tingling warmth spread through the cuts, knitting the torn flesh back together. She murmured soft reassurances under her breath, though they were as much for herself as they were for you. Her power wasn’t meant for this, for preventing death, but she gave freely of herself, pouring every ounce of her strength into pulling you back from the edge. The strain showed in her creased forehead, but she fought against it because her heart depended on it.

When the bleeding finally stopped, Rio sagged back on her heels, her hands trembling as the adrenaline drained from her body. Her breath came in uneven gasps, her pulse pounding in her ears. She stared at you, her vision blurring with a mixture of relief and pain.

Carefully, as though you might shatter at the slightest touch, she reached out and gathered you into her arms. Your body was limp against her, your head lolling weakly onto her shoulder. She could feel the shallow rise and fall of your chest—too faint, too fragile—but you were breathing. That was enough.

She pressed a trembling kiss against your temple, her lips barely grazing your skin as she carried you from the bathroom. Each step was slow, deliberate, as though she feared moving too quickly would send you slipping away from her again.

By the time she laid you down on the bed, the world around you was a hazy blur, shifting in and out of focus. The weight beneath you felt unfamiliar—softer than the cold tub, warmer than the tile floor. A distant pressure tugged at your limbs, grounding you, but your thoughts drifted in a fog. Sounds came muffled, like you were underwater.

Rio’s voice, low and strained, broke through the haze. You couldn't make out the words, only the shape of them, the warmth in them. Then she was gone, footsteps fading, leaving you adrift in the silence.

A moment later, something soft slipped over your head. The scent of lavender and something faintly smoky curled into your nose, stirring something deep in your chest. A trembling breath left your lips, the familiarity of it pulling you back, dragging you closer to the surface of awareness.

Your lip quivered. A whimper—barely more than a breath—escaped before you even realized it. The sweater clung to your skin, warm and safe, and for the first time since your body hit the tile, the numbness began to crack.

“What is it?” Rio asked urgently, cupping your face with her hands, searching your face for any signs of pain or discomfort. “What’s wrong?”

Tears welled in your eyes, spilling over as you whispered, still dazed, “She doesn’t want us anymore.”

Rio froze, her heart dropping at the words and the hopelessness in your voice.

She cupped your face, her thumbs brushing away the tears that continued to fall while she forced herself to stay calm, to steady her voice. “That’s not true,” she said, her voice firm but gentle. “Agatha loves you. She loves us. She’s just... hurting.”

You shook your head weakly, your gaze unfocused, lost in the thick fog of exhaustion and heartbreak. "She said it. She said... he wasn't ours, only hers. She doesn't want us.” Your voice cracked, breaking on the last sentence. “She doesn’t want us.” Your words grew softer, fading into incoherent murmurs as exhaustion pulled you under.

Seeing you like this brought bile up. Your pain was making her physically nauseous. Rio’s arms wrapped around you tightly, as though sheer force alone could keep you from slipping away again. “She’s lost in her grief,” she said softly, resting her chin on top of your head. “She doesn’t mean it. She doesn’t.”

But your eyes were already fluttering closed, exhaustion and despair pulling you into an empty, restless sleep. As your breathing evened out, Rio stayed by your side, her hand resting on yours.

For a long moment, she simply sat there, the weight of the situation pressing down on her. She leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

She wanted to believe Agatha hadn’t meant it, that the words had been spat out in grief and anger, not truth. But seeing you like this—weak, barely conscious, drowning in the pain Agatha had inflicted—made it impossible to excuse.

“She’s lost in her grief. She didn't mean it," Rio murmured again, this time to herself.

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The argument replayed in Agatha’s mind as she sat on the bench, viewing the garden Rio created centuries ago as the cool night air brushing against her skin. Her fingers pressed against her temple, rubbing slow, desperate circles as if she could knead away the headache forming beneath her skull.

She took a swig from the half-empty beer bottle, the taste flat and useless to distract her from the ache in her chest. Her words had been cruel, sharp-edged daggers thrown in anger. "He was never your son. Not you, not Rio. He was my son." The memory of your devastated expression was seared into her mind.

She’d meant it in the moment. Or at least, she’d convinced herself she did. Grief over Nicky had festered into something raw and ugly, and in her anguish, she had taken it out on you—the person who had only ever tried to love her through her faults. Your love was pure.

While Nicky had inherited little of your features, what you had given him was more personal than any resemblance. Your ability to love someone regardless of their past and all the terrible things they've done is one of a kind. Agatha was sure there was no one who could ever grace this world the way you did. That was what made you stronger than any power she or Rio could ever possess.

But that purity was suffocating. It was too much like his. It was like he had never left. And yet, he was gone.

That was the worst part. Every time she looked at you, at Rio, it was a reminder of what she had lost. Of what she could never get back.

It wasn’t fair that you and Rio were still here with her when he wasn’t. It wasn’t fair that you kept loving her, even after all the ways she pushed you away. It wasn’t fair that you could carry on, bearing his memory with softness, while she was drowning in the weight of it.

Maybe that was why she lashed out. Because she hated that you were proof love could survive grief. And she hated herself even more for resenting you for it.

But now, in the openness of the garden, regret gnawed at her, eating her alive. She wished she could take it back, wished she could go back in time to undo the pain she’d caused. She hated herself for how easily the words had slipped out, sharp and unforgiving. It was a defense second nature to her. It was as unstoppable as her magic siphoning. It relented before she could remember that the people she lashed out at were the ones she loved most.

The sound of the back door slamming and heavy footsteps jolted her from her thoughts.

Agatha shot to her feet, as she carelessly discarded the bottle she had been nursing. She turned sharply, her heart hammering against her ribs as Rio strode toward her. The guilt and sorrow clung to Agatha like a shadow, but Rio wasn’t here to acknowledge her pain. This wasn’t about her.

She didn’t speak at first, only stood before Agatha, her entire body trembling with a rage barely containable as she tried to formulate her words carefully. Her chest rose and fell in sharp, uneven breaths, her fists curling so tightly at her sides that her knuckles went white.

Agatha froze. The half-empty bottle hung uselessly at her side, momentarily forgotten. Her gaze flickered toward Rio, taking in the rigid set of her shoulders, the barely restrained fury rolling off of her in waves. Then Agatha saw it—dark stains smeared across Rio’s hands, stark against her skin. The realization hit her like ice water.

Your blood.

Her stomach twisted violently. She felt the breath hitch in her throat as her gaze snapped back to Rio’s face. The rage was still there, burning bright, but beneath it—buried just deep enough to go unnoticed by anyone else—was fear.

“You know what you’ve caused?” Rio’s voice was low and deadly, trembling with restrained rage.

Agatha swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. “I—”

Rio cut Agatha off before she could try to explain. “Do you know what Y/N tried to do because of you?” The words were spit through clenched teeth, but her voice cracked on your name.

“What... what-” she stammered. Once again, getting cut off.

“She thought you didn’t want her anymore. That you didn’t want us anymore.” Rio’s composure shattered, her breath coming in ragged bursts. “Do you have any idea what it felt like to find the love of our lives bleeding out in that tub? Because of you? Because you let your grief fester into something that poisoned her?”

Rio’s hands trembled as she dragged them through her hair, her breath coming in sharp, angry heaves. Then, suddenly, as if overwhelmed by the weight of it all, she pressed the heels of her palms against her eyes and let out a harsh, shuddering breath.

Agatha couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.

Her vision swam, your face flashing in her mind—not the way she had last seen it, but the way it looked utterly lifeless

Tears welled in her eyes, her hands trembling as she clutched at the edge of the bench for support. “I... I didn’t know,” she choked out, her voice barely a whisper.

Rio dropped her hands, her gaze snapping to Agatha with something close to disbelief. Then she laughed, humorless and bitter. “You didn’t know?” she echoed, voice raw. “How could you not know, Agatha? Don’t give me that pathetic reasoning, Agatha. You know her more than you know yourself. You know how deeply she feels everything. Love. Pain. And now she thinks you hate her.”

Agatha’s tears spilled over, her chest heaving with the weight of her guilt. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen,” she pleaded, her voice breaking. “I didn’t mean to hurt her. I just... I didn’t know how to deal with it. I didn’t know how to-.”

Rio’s expression softened for a fleeting moment, the raw pain in Agatha’s panic stirring something deep within her. But she quickly steeled herself, unwilling to let sympathy distract her from the truth.

"You need to fix this." Her words were quiet. Firm. And final.

Agatha blinked through the blur of tears. She hadn't felt this type of fear since Nicky.

“If you’ve ever loved her, if you’ve ever loved us, then you’ll make this right,” Rio said filled with tiredness and desperation. “Because if you don’t, you’ll lose us both.”

Agatha’s breath hitched.

Rio’s words hung in the air like a heavy, suffocating fog. Without waiting for a response, she turned and strode back inside, the door swinging shut behind her with a thud.

She had been so consumed by her own grief that she hadn’t realized she had become the very thing she had feared, the thing that had broken you.

Agatha stood there in stunned silence, her mind reeling. Her knees buckled, and she collapsed into the dirt of the garden, her fingers dug into the soil as though it could somehow anchor her to the ground. The weight of Rio’s words crashed over her like a tidal wave, and for the first time, the full gravity of her actions hit her.

Her guilt twisted like a knife in her gut. Her sobs were quiet at first, but soon they grew louder, wracking her body with the force of hardened grief. Her pain pulsed around her, a sickness that spread without forgiveness. Her gaze darted around, watching in anguish as the pink azaleas she had once tended with such care now wilting, their petals curling in on themselves as if recoiling from her presence. The energy emanating from her twisted the life around her, black veins creeping up the stems, the poison of her emotions seeping into the earth.

Just like she had seeped into you. It was a silent parallel of how she had poisoned you.

The thought made her sick.

She had always known that her anger and pain had pushed you and Rio away, but she hadn’t realized just how far it had gone until now. The fear that she might lose both you and Rio, it was too much to bear. And for the first time, the full weight of her actions hit her, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She didn’t know how to fix it, how to undo the damage she’d done. But she knew one thing for certain: if she didn’t try, she would lose you both. And that was a price she couldn’t afford to pay.

#agatha all along #agatha harkness #agatha harkness x reader #agatha x reader #rio vidal #rio vidal x reader #rio x reader #agatha harkness x rio vidal x reader #agatha x rio #agathario #nicky scratch #nicholas scratch

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yuyusshinelight · 22 hours ago

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Can I request a smut with Dom!Jongho and pregnant wife reader? She’s always so needy especially when Jongho comes home from work/practice and he gives in everytime 🥹

Hi my shining star! Of course you can. It’s a really good scenario that I will gladly write for you🩷. I don't know if that was what you were expecting but I really hope you like it as much as I enjoyed writing it🫶🏻

Warnings: established marriage, pregnancy sex, reader is so needy, fingering, breast playing, lactation kink?, use of pet names, dom-sub subtle dynamic.

It is common knowledge that during pregnancy, women can experience an increase in their sexual desire, attributed to several physical, hormonal and emotional factors that vary from woman to woman. That's what the doctor told you in your first check-ups. Also all those books of pregnancy and parenthood. And the warnings his hyungs that already had children gave him as soon as they found out he was going to be a father too. What Jongho didn't expect was that it could become such a fervent desire, able to make you throw yourself into his fly as soon as you heard the front door. In the first trimester you were already showing signs of needing him closer than ever, but now, just entering the second trimester of your pregnancy, it seems as if all you need to live is to feel him as deeply as humanly possible. Oh, and your chocolate dipped pickles.

Seeing you so desperate to feel every inch of your hot, needy body covered with his love to the point of begging him with those teary eyes makes Jongho give in and indulge you with exactly what you're asking him: satisfy that fiery, burning passion that has you so unhinged.

So, as he has been doing those last two weeks, Jongho is already preparing himself to welcome you into his arms as soon as the door opens. He can even feel your hands wrap around his waist while your lips beg for his. The surprise he ran into when he didn't find you running towards him. Your absence in his arms even worries him badly. Aren't you at home? No, you would have told him if that was the case… What if you are not feeling well and you've decided to lie down for a while?

Leaving the things in the doorway as soon as he closes the door without worrying about how they are positioned or whether it is the right place, Jongho goes into the darkness of his house, making sure you are not asleep on the couch, only to go straight to your bedroom and finally be met with the gratifying surprise of hearing his name in soft desperate sights accompanied by those lovely moans of pleasure with which you drives him crazy every time since your very first time together. All his previous concern quickly fades away, making place to a burning desire to make you scream his name at the top of your lungs.

Not wanting to make neither of you wait a single second more, Jongho opens the door of your shared bedroom, making you stop whatever you were doing instantly and get partially up on your spot for the surprise, one of your hands as your support. You were so immersed in making yourself cum that you haven't heard the door “Jagi…” it's the only thing you can say, the embarrassment of having been caught and his heavy gaze on your half covered body make your heart race enough to be unable to utter anything else. Although there's no necessity to say anything. It's obvious what you were doing as it's also obvious from that look Jongho is giving you that those blankets that are covering you up and not allowing him to see your glistening, slippery cunt have to be removed from you now.

“Hi, Y/N-ah. How was your day? Has our little one been giving you a hard time today?” He says like he does every day, as normal as if he wasn't about to make you cum on his fingers right now. With a calm step he approaches the bed, sitting down next to you to caress your growing belly properly, his eyes fixed on that place even when you answer him that you have had a hard day with the increasing breast pains and sudden fatigue that should have appeared later in the pregnancy “Sorry to hear that, babe” he says before leaning towards your belly and press a soft kiss on it just to look up at you “Want me to take care of those pains?” And, knowing the true meaning hidden in those tenderly recited words, you nod desperately.

From the moment your insatiable clit has been practically crying for attention, you have wanted your husband to be the one to take care of it, and now that he can touch you, you are not going to say no. Obviously.

“Please” your voice comes out like a thin, fragile thread while one of your hands drives his free hand to your breasts, squeezing one with his for a brief second “I need you so bad” Your voice is almost trembling from the sudden contact, your legs squeezing together in a pathetic attempt to give some relief to your demanding cunt. Everything in you screams how desperate you really are “I know” his voice sounds calm, the proximity of your faces now warns you of what's to come “That's why daddy is going to take care of everything now” with a comforting gentleness, Jongho moves the hand you have put in your breast to take your chin between his index and thumb “Mommy only has to worry about enjoying every single moment, okay?” His body leans gently towards yours to pick your lips one brief time, whispering against them “Lie down for me”.

With such a clear command and the promise of making you feel better than your fingers in his voice, you do exactly as he says, settling back into the pile of cushions you had prepared earlier. Your gaze is fixed on your husband, following his every move carefully calculated to capture your full attention. Normally you would be the one doing it, there is nothing you like more than to undress Jongho slowly while giving a special lovely treatment to every new bare part of his body you see. But he has been quite clear when he has told you to just relax and disobeying him has never been an option for you, so you just stay there, delighting in watching how he slowly peels back layer after layer of cloth covering his body until he is left alone in his underwear.

“I will need you to take those out of my way, babe” he suddenly says, pointing at the blankets you still have covering your body just for you to almost kick them off, making Jongho laugh cutely. He knows pretty well that you would have done it without blinking if it weren't for your lovely, bulging belly “Someone is desperate, uh?”.

“I am, yes” you say with a pout, your tone sounds comically annoyed which makes Jongho laugh again “I can't leave you like this, can I?” Question that you answer with a childish shake of your head. Being careful not to press too hard on your belly, Jongho lies partially on top of you, kissing you on the lips before lowering his head to your breasts which he discovers when he removes the shirt without breaking eye contact with you “Are you already producing milk?” He asks absentmindedly, all his attention on how soft and round your boobs look today until his intrusive thoughts lead him to bury his face in the soft valley of your breasts to leave butterfly kisses all over the surface, drawing tiny, tender sighs from you with each kiss “As far as I know, no, but we can always discover it now” your hand is comfortably placed on the top of his head, caressing carefully his hair while he keeps kissing your breasts indistinctly. And from the way your husband suddenly looks at you, he seems to love the idea “Then let's discover it”.

Without even a second thought, his tongue is already playing with your sensitive, erect nipple, slowly preparing it for what is to come. But, as the soft sounds you're giving him don't seem to be enough for the already horny idol, Jongho brings one of his hands down slowly, taking his time to caressing your bulging belly gently. Feeling his baby on your tummy under the palm of his hand is something that fascinates him, he still can't believe that you two made that tiny life that is growing inside you. Jongho is looking forward to finally holding your baby in his arms.

Following its previous path, Jongho inserts his hand inside your now wet panties. With his tongue on your sensitive nipple and his fingers subtly brushing your slippery folds, a shiver runs through your extra sensitive body from the exaggerated amount of increased hormones like an electric current, making you even sob in pure excitement. But that's not sufficient. You really are desperate either for his fingers playing with your cunt or his cock splitting you deliciously good.

“Jagi, please” in an attempt to erase that burning sensation inside your hot body, you lift your hips just a few centimetres to press his fingers where you need; but it doesn't go beyond that, an attempt, thanks to the extra weight of your baby and the father lovingly forcing your hips back to their previous position “Let's go slow babe, let me prepare you well for me” Jongho's hot breath against your now wet nipple when he cuts his task to answer you instantly makes your skin crawl, closing the hand that grips his hair with a certain force “I have prepared myself enough already. Please, skip the teasing”.

You know perfectly well that this attitude usually doesn't work with your dominant husband who doesn't like to be told what he has to do, but lately he has been spoiling you a little too much so, maybe, he will let it go this time. Also, he has to take responsibility for your neediness, it's his fault after all. Jongho is so deliciously addictive that you can never get enough of him, especially now with your hormones revved up by pregnancy, forcing you to want to have him inside you all day long.

And that's precisely the reason Jongho nods to your request, giving you a short kiss on your sternon before taking your lovely pink mound back into his mouth to suck at his whim and stick two fingers at once into your tight, slippery pussy. He may not like it when you tell him what to do during sex but, being aware of such a change you are undergoing in your body because of your baby, the least he can do is to give in and do absolutely everything you want. Not like he doesn't like spoiling you.

The way in which your husband is taking care of your needy, hot body has you in cloud nine. With just the swaying of his fingers in and out of you, alternating between scissoring and pressing upwards on your fleshy wall to find your sweet spot, he has you completely immersed in a wave of intense pleasure that makes your body tremble. Now add that the delicacy with which his mouth is stimulating your boob. You could die of pleasure right now.

It is truly fascinating as well as chilling how Jongho has the ability to induce you in such a high that can make you lose your mind completely with just a few minutes of that melodic movement of his fingers combined with his tongue.

The gentle movement of his body over yours only increases your already agitated breathing, you can even hear your heart pumping in your ears. You can't stop that string of moans with his name that cascades from between your lips, it's not like you want to stop it either. You know perfectly well what effect each of your sounds have on him, especially how crazy it drives him when he hears you meowing his name in such a blatant and pornographic way like you're doing right now.

But then Jongho stops sucking on your nipple with a really cute pop, his lips leaving that boob to go to the other, brushing gently over your unattended mound which makes you whimper in a needy sob “Feels better, babe?” his fingers keep moving on your cunt, his thumb going to give some attention to your clit ”I know your breasts have been hurting so much lately” for the pleasure he is giving you, you can't pronounce anything but his name so you just nod ”My poor girl” his lips leaving a trail of kisses from your breast to your jaw, making you sigh with each sweet touch ”Don't worry, love, I'm going to make sure they don't hurt anymore” and with that said, he gives you a tender kiss on the lips to which you respond more than delight, entwining your fingers through his locks while his free hand gently trails down his torso until it reaches his boxer line, wanting to go lower to make him feel as good as he's doing with you but Jongho has another plans on mind “Don't, babe” his hot breath against your lips when he breaks the kiss “Today it's all about you”.

“That's not fair for you” you reply between soft sights, his fingers never stopping playing between you wet, gummy walls and throbbing clit. But Jongho shakes his head, picking briefly your lips one last time before going down again “So sweet of you, love, but I'm fine” he says, stopping at your neck to leave a little hickey, his thumb circling your clit a bit harder when he feels how your walls start to squeeze his fingers with more force, warning of your impending orgasm “Now, let's make you cum”.

Without giving you time to reply to him, Jongho lowers his head to your breasts and takes your nipple on it one more time, sucking deliciously hard on it while his fingers speed up in your cunt which makes you burst into screams. You're madly in love with the aggressive sweetness with which he is giving you all this overflowing pleasure. And then you get that familiar, longed-for feeling in your belly, making you squirm. You are very close to reaching your climax and Jongho obviously knows it, so he increases the speed of his fingers, gently biting your sensitive mound as he knows you like it before flicking his tongue around it and sucking hard again. You are there, right there, just a few strokes more of his thumb on your clit and you finally come with a loud pornographic moan of his name.

Your expressions, your sounds, your walls contracting so intensely around his fingers, the amount of delicious fluid gushing from your churning pussy. Your orgasm has been so intense that Jongho has become extremely aroused. His cock demands furiously to bury itself to the hilt deep inside your heat.

“Everything good, babe?” You just nod at him, still trying to catch your breath “Feel good?” And, again, you just nod at him but, this time, you take his gorgeous face between your hands to approach him and catch his lips in a deep, messy kiss to which he clearly responds. And you stay like that for a long time, your tongues intertwined in a passionate and loud kiss until your lungs beg for a breath of air.

“Well…” he starts, completely breathless after almost eating your mouth "you don't seem to be producing milk yet, babe. I'll have to check again tomorrow” that comment makes you laugh, making you blush a bit embarrassed. But Jongho knows that smile, he knows you're looking forward to it already. Like him, let's not lie "But for now, spread your legs wide” he puts one of his hands on your inner thigh, spreading it a bit while he moves from his spot at your side to get between your legs "I'll give you mine".

#ateez #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez x reader #ateez smut #choi jongho #ateez jongho #jongho #jongho scenarios #jongho smut #lusteez #fluffteez

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tokoyamisstuff · 2 days ago

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I ABSOLUTELY ADORED THE VLADCARD HCS!!!! Could you maybe do so hcs for a vampire Anderson and a human reader?? Gotta get the old switcharoo on supernaturals 😈😈😈

wdjbawhjb I enjoy seeing that old man suffer 😈

also I'm so glad you're enjoying yourself! feel free to request as much as you like, for whoever and whatever you want! 💌 it's refreshing and helps so much against my writing block! 💕🫶

gn! Reader, can be read romantic or platonic, slight angst and blood

Obviously Anderson was turned against his will, and his first instinct is to stick to Iscariot protocol and end his existence at once.

He'll be devastated to learn he's turned so powerful that he can't simply die by stepping into the sunlight or stabbing himself through the heart.

At the beginning he's absolutely forlorn with this new state of being, yet he also cannot seem to bring himself to return to the Vatican as he is now, unwilling to face his old comrades and especially the children under his care.

After all vampirism comes with certain cravings, and while is self-restraint is insanely high, he is terrified of losing control and he'd never put the people he loves at even the slightest risk.

Speaking of which, knowing things can't continue like this forever, his resolve diminishing together with his strenght as he refuses to feed, in his desparation he finds himself going out of his hiding to seek out his closest confidant.

For a while he'll manage to keep his distance, far enough away not to harm you but always so close that you realize something is off.

Though subjecting you to his presence was dangerous and inevitably would drag you down together with him one way or another, at some point he'll work up the courage - or rather exasperation - to ask for your help.

You'll be shocked to see the man you hadn't nearly stopped mourning after his alledged death weeks ago, thinking back to the day you were standing at his empty grave since all of you believed there was nothing left to bury.

Anderson will fall to his knees, begging you to deliver him from this curse, to cleanse his sins through your holy blade - but you refuse. You can't do it. Not now or ever.

He never doubted you'd be willing to help him, but that was also his greatest fear. You offer him refuge until you'd find a solution, insisting on him staying despite his protests as you trust him unconditionally.

There was a tiny hope left that he didn't lose God's favor just yet, since he was turned involuntarily and had yet to consume human blood. Maybe this was his purpose, having a specimen to experiment and find a cure for vampirism alltogether.

So you'd spend an eternity trying every possible method to revert the demonic transformation somehow, even consultated Iscariot and other sources of knowledge, but nothing seemed to work.

At some point he's grown so desperate that he throws all reason overboard. He's already doomed to rot in hell either way, might as well make best out of the time until he's sent there.

He'll spend most of his time as your (literal) shadow, after he motto "I'll keep you safe and you keep me sane".

It takes a lot of convincing for him to feed off of your blood, but at some point he's grown so starved and weary that he reluctantly accepts your offer. However he only drinks it from a container you drain it into, insisting you stay far away from him during this because your essence has an effect on him that he doesn't trust himself with.

Together you keep slaying demonic forces in the name of the church and hope that those actions will appease the Lord to have mercy on Anderson's soul despite everything.

In the end he is eternally grateful that you never gave up on him, and as much as he still struggles with this state of being, you made him see the light even in his darkest days.

#hellsing #hellsing ultimate #alexander anderson #alexander anderson x reader #writing #headcanons #fanfiction

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vxlentinescookies · 3 days ago

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could I pls request a PLATONIC fatherly red velvet x teen reader comfort fic?

like reader is struggling a lot mentally, is very lonely, and going thru a lot

And they always hide it because they feel guilty and like a burden and they don’t want to bother anyone

But one day velvet catches them in this state and he just provides lots of comfort? I think anyone needs hugs and fatherly comfort from Velvet rn these days…

→ ❛Daydreamer❜

→ Pairing ; Red Velvet Cookie & Teen!Reader → Quote ; ❛❛Im not leaving anywhere, pup, come here❜❜ → Genre ; Drama → A/N ; Sorry for the delay, here it is! (cw mentions of abusive households and bullying)

Dreams are meant to be sweet, simple and cozy, even if sometimes they’re extravagant and coat your world in curious questions and what not. However, lately, these “dreams” had seemed to have taken a darker tone, a darker connotation, and perhaps there is nothing more we could chalk it up other than…

“Im not… I dont feel good. Havent felt good in a long while.”

You looked down at your hands, looking at the little lines that ran through them, before looking up, and then, you’d think for a moment, about what led you to the current moment.

You were a teen much like any other, with your likes, your dislikes, things you loved and things you hated. You explored the world with a certain shine in your eyes that, lately, had been dying down, but why? Life at home just, wasnt easy, no, not at all. You lived hardship after hardship, with a neglectful parent and another who barely stayed home, you were barely afloat with the cold hard walls you had to see every single day. Outside of your home, things werent all that nice either, having gone through bullying for your interests, for the way you dressed, the way you were.

Life wasnt good, it hasnt been good, and probably wont be good for a long while, if truth was to be told, but you tried to cope, tried to move forward, tried to see the bright side, even if locked in your tiny room, writing and drawing of a bright future where you could live out of the things you loved the most, where you could experience all that made you the happiest. If you could only… speak up about them.

Perhaps, thats where your uncle came into view. Red Velvet, one of the siblings from your motherly side that stayed firm in being in your life. You were somewhat glad about it, that he had always and persistently stayed by your side no matter what, even if in his gaze, your life was seemingly perfect. Your parents were good actors, you see, we all are when we need to put on a facade.

So when Red Velvet came to visit that afternoon, between laughs and chit chat, you’d sneak over to your room, with nothing else in mind but to hide from the saccharine smiles and hypocritical gazes of love and affection. They didnt care about you, no, they didnt… But for him they acted, didnt they?

Locking yourself in your room, you’d sit down by your desk and start drawing again, little sketches, little drabbles, you enjoyed every single one of them with a soft hum. You drew happy homes, you drew sad homes, you drew the in between, and you drew the ideal family for you, even if it only had one parent in it. Thats when the door was knocked on, catching you off guard as you’d tilt your head before responding.

“Im busy…” Harsh, cold, it took the person behind the door by surprise, and as they spoke, you realized.

“(y/n), its me… Red Velvet, your uncle…” You had guessed wrong.

You call out to him, quietly, before walking to the door and opening it to reveal your uncle, a small smile on his face as he looked down at you.

“Hey, there” He’d say softly, before kneeling in front of you “What are you doing here? Party’s down there…”

“I dont want to be with them…” You answered, truthfully, looking down with certain disdain as you fiddled with your hands. “I prefer being in my room”

“...” He’d just stay silent, not saying much, before taking a look inside your dark room, only illuminated by the light in your desk. “Can I come in?”

Red Velvet would take a seat at your bed, as you took the side by him, rocking your legs up forward and backwards, clashing with the bed plush as Red Velvet looked around, before speaking.

“Why dont you want to be with them? Your parents, I mean…” He’d ask, looking at you as you fiddled with your hands once again.

“They’re lying, they act as if they care about me but I rarely see them at home… And when they do they’re mean…” You’d answer, truthfully, there wasnt a wish to lie about that reality after all, nor was there any wish to speak about it. “I dont want to talk about it…”

“...” He’d pursue his lips, then, he knew something was wrong, but getting it out of someone… “(y/n), whats wrong?”

So he’d ask it out plainly, looking at you with suspicious eyes, but not incriminatory, he simply looked at you for something, anything, that would give him leeway into helping you let out these feelings. But your mind had been locked into not giving in to others, into not revealing the full truth in search of not being a burden, but to your uncle you wouldnt be a burden now, would you? You didnt know, and you didnt want to find out in any way, shape, or form.

“Nothing’s wrong” You’d say, crossing your arms. “Im fine, Uncle”

“If you were fine you wouldnt be holed up in this dark room…” He’d say, sighing “Im not going to force you to speak, ok? But when you need me, you know where to find me”

He’d stand up, then, getting ready to leave when you’d extend your hand to grip on the hem of his sleeve, and then…

“Im not… I dont feel good. Havent felt good in a long while.” You said as he stopped and turned to look at you, making his eyes follow yours.

You looked down at your hands, the little hands that ran through them. The little lines natural to your body, you hummed, before clenching your hands and running to hold onto your uncle, tears soon beginning to run through your face.

“Dont leave, please…”

“Im not leaving anywhere, pup, come here”

Life was hard, that much was true, and as you day dreamed day in and day out about a new future, this once you chose to stand on earth, and explain the truth about your life. You told your uncle about everything that had happened, everything that had gone through your mind, everything that happened both in and out of school, in and out of home, you came undone and loose, letting your tears flow freely, as Red Velvet your uncle, heard you loud and clear, humming and nodding along as you spoke.

“You’ve gone through a lot, that is for sure…” He’d start then, once you had finished speaking, and your face turned to look at him while he rubbed your shoulder gently. “But that dosent mean you had to live it alone…”

“I just didnt want to be a burden…”

“Sweetheart, you’re not a burden, not to me nor anyone for that matter”

“But Mom-”

“Your mom knows nothing” His voice would become slightly agitated, turning to see the door before sighing “Neither of us came from a healthy household, but, Im not saying this as a way to justify her actions, simply to try and see it from her point of view—She dosent know anything else…”

“That dosent make it right…” You’d counterattack, and Red Velvet would nod along.

“Of course, just because you understand someone dosent mean it makes it right” He’d explain, and you’d nod softly “What Im trying to say is, neither of us knows much other than hurt. But what we do about that, is what matters…”

You stayed in silence for a moment, before turning to see Red Velvet again, who seemed to be in thought before turning to see you in return, mismatched eyes meeting with teary ones, you clung to him as you spoke your next words.

“I dont want to live here anymore��”

“I know pup, I know” He’d say and sighed, before nodding “I’ll talk with your mom, try to make things right… If not… Leave it all to me, alright?”

He’d clean your eyes and brush hair out of your face, before finally speaking softly.

“If you need me, you know you can always come and find me, I’ll always be here for you no matter what, I promise you that much”

Life… it didnt become any easier, but at least… At least you had someone to lean to from now on, and that much was enough for you to have hope of one day, leaving and fulfilling your dreams. Because maybe someday… Someday you’ll be standing in the hall making one specific person proud, and that will be enough.

#🌙;moonlit dreams #red velvet cookie x reader #cookie run x reader #crk x reader #cookie run kingdom x reader #cw ; abusive household #cw ; bullying

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instantfoxdonut · 2 days ago

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Helluva Boss S1-S2: Octavia Rant

okay, it has CLEARLY come to attention that ever since the episodes Mastermind and Sinsmas came out, MANY people having been hating on Octavia's character with little to no evidence for it.

Allow me to explain

As someone who watches both helluva boss and hazbin hotel, alot of drama has been spreaded around throughout both shows, most recently, with helluva boss's season 2 finale. Alot of people have started to make pointless rants of why octavia being angry and most likely wanting NOTHING to do with her father, Stolas, in the future makes her a terrible daughter and character, and may I remind you, with LITTLE TO NO EVIDENCE WHATSOEVER.

And now, I shall bring out the evidence of why octavia's feelings towards her father, blitzø, and her mother are justified.

First of all, the first time we actually get to see Octavia is in S1- episode 2: Looloo Land. The episode opens with a flashback to Octavia as a young child having difficulty going to sleep. Due to Stolas hearing Octavia while trying to sleep himself, he goes to her room with his grimoire and sings to her while taking her to watch an entire solar system implode on itself. Then it cuts to Octavia in the present waking up to the sound of Stella, Octavia's mother, screaming at Stolas and throwing objects across the kitchen at him. Now before she woke up, she seemed genuinely content, but once she was brought back to harsh reality, she looks absolutely miserable.

if you can't tell HOW miserable this girl is- then here is a mini compilation of her misery:

In all of these images you can clearly tell, her life SUCKS. Not to mention, the fact that she puts her headphones in to most likely drown out her mom's shouting kind of gives the impression that this has happened before, and she is USED to it- which is not a good thing. Now, I may not be a parent or an expert on taking care of other living beings, but I know enough that if a child is so used to hearing their parents screeching at eachother EVERY MORNING, to the point that they have had to learn to drown it out with other sounds or distractions, then it is CLEARLY A BAD THING. It's normal for parents to argue every once in a while, but this girl has to hear this EVERY MORNING, AND HAS HAD TO FOR GOD KNOWS HOW LONG. And that does not help with that the song she listens to in the beginning of the episode, is "My World Is Burning Down Around Me" by a band called "Fuk u Dad". Do you see where I am going with this? No? It's okay, I'm not done proving my point yet.

Now as for this rant, I have done some delectable research and have found that during the teenage period of life, most teenagers tend to try to find something to relate to. Specifically music, art, books, poetry, writing, ect. They also tend to pick these depending on how they feel about certain subjects, what they have gone through/ what they are going through at the moment, and a way to express themselves, and as a way to vent about their feelings. By the specific song choice, it's not only referring to how her life is LITERALLY FALLING APART AROUND HER, but also how she feels about the whole Stolas and Blitzø situation. She FEELS like her life is burning down around her while it also, non-metaphorically, is. Seems like a pretty fitting music choice for everything she's going through right now, am I right?

Moving on.

Second of all, during the same episode, she was dragged to LooLoo Land by her dad along with, you guessed it, blitz, which she is OBVIOUSLY not happy about. Her day started terrible, and now it's only going to get worse. Also, she has to see her dad FLIRT with the imp that is partaking in ruining her life INFRONT OF HER. And she looks so uncomfortable during the experience to the point that during the LooLoo Land show with the robotic Fizzarolli, she gets up and leaves, and runs off to sit on a ride by herself, and looks like she wants to cry. When Stolas goes after her, she wants him to go away, but still tolerates him. When he asks her what's wrong, she asks him "Are you going to run away with him and leave me behind...? Where i can't find you and I don't know where you are... and leave me alone...?". This moment, you can see how she is so close to crying at this point that her voice is breaking and that she has a teary expression. Then Stolas responds by hugging her and saying "No. No, I would NEVER do that. Ever". And as everyone finds out later, he BREAKS that promise to his daughter. As the series progresses, we also get to see how their father and daughter relationship slowly, but surely, begins to fall apart right before our eyes.

Third of all, in S2, episode-2: Seeing Stars, Octavia, for the first time we have seen, wakes up HAPPY. We then see her go uo to her calendar which shows she has a date circled and written with something along the lines of her going to see Asaphalts Tears with her father. She seems genuinely excited about it. But as she goes out to talk to Stolas about it, we can see a moving van and Stella's stuff being moved out into the van while Stolas is arguing with Stella on the phone. When Octavia tried to talk to him, he pushes her away and tells her that he is busy, not only refusing to listen to his OWN DAUGHTER, but also FORGETTING the OTHER promise he made to her. Now, alot of people may think "Oh, well Stolas is obviously busy and stressed, and it's just some Asaphalts Tears, it's totally okay for him to forget about taking his daughter to see them." No, it's actually NOT OKAY. He clearly promised to her that he would take her to see them, and may I remind you, Asaphalts Tears only show up every 1000 YEARS. That is a LONG TIME before she will get to see them. Not to mention, due to her being 17 at this point in the series, this would be her VERY FIRST TIME SEEING THEM. Due to her reaction, she is clearly upset about him brushing her off and forgetting, to the point she storms back to her room, and tears up and throws away her calendar. Then, she decides to take her father's grimoire and uses it to go see them, which ends up with her in the middle of Los Angeles by herself utterly lost. When Stolas realizes his book is gone and that Octavia is missing, he and Blitz along with the rest of I.M.P., go to look for her. In the process, Blitz gets mistaken for a celebrity and Stolas gets taken with him, leaving Loona to go look for her instead. By the way, the entire time that Blitz and Stolas are stuck on a recording set, Stolas COMPLETELY FORGETS ABOUT HIS OWN DAUGHTER. AGAIN. He then spends that time swooning over Blitz while Loona is busy running herself ragged, looking for HIS DAUGHTER FOR HIM. Once Loona finds Octavia, SHE has to tell her that her father loves her, since he isn't able to do it HIMSELF. Octavia even states, "If he cares so much, then why did you come looking for me instead of him...?" She is SO RIGHT with that line. If Stolas ACTUALLY cares as much as he says he does about his daughter, then why couldn't he be bothered to LOOK AND TALK TO HER HIMSELF? People also seem to like forgetting that as a parent, Stolas should be concerned enough about his daughter to be able to actually talk to her and look for her and not be flirting with Blitz for 5 MINUTES. That is just common sense.

Fourth of all, throughout both Sinsmas and Mastermind, Octavia is starting to suffer more than ever from her father's actions. Jesus, it's like Rose/Pink Diamond with Steven all over again-. In Mastermind, during the trial, we can see that the entire thing is being recorded and broadcasted LIVE. Once Stolas decides to (somewhat) own up to his actions, he places his head on the block, thinking he will be executed. Remember, this is being broadcasted LIVE. Octavia is WATCHING. SHE IS THINKING THAT SHE IS GOING TO WATCH HER FATHER BE KILLED. Alot of people are most likely saying at this point, "Well, Vivziepop wouldn't just kill off Stolas before the show ends." True, but that's not the point. We, as the viewers, DO know that he won't actually be killed. However, Octavia, as a character, DOESN'T know. I also feel like most of people that watch the show don't understand how TRAUMATIZING THIS WOULD BE FOR HER. She thought she was about to watch her father DIE. Even though he didn't actually die, she can still be traumatized by just the thought or even alluding to him being killed. It's already terrifying enough for a child to think about one of their parents dying, let alone WATCHING THEM DIE. ON TELEVISION. That would mess her up terribly. She was so distressed about thinking that her dad was about to die, that she goes to run up to her room. But before she can even leave the room, Stella stands in her way and embraces her. Once this happens, Octavia begins to sob in her arms, while Stella smiles. SMILES. Her daughter is seeking any form of comfort from her, is shaking like a leaf, AND crying, and she SMILES. Everybody already knows, Stella is a terrible person and mother, and is also an abuser and manipulator. To a certain degree, Octavia most likely knows this, but she is also so desperate and in need for comfort right now, that she is willing to hug her anyway.

In Sinsmas, we see that Octavia is still dealing with the aftermath and ending of Mastermind. It's not long until she finds a box of Stolas's pills, and her guitar. She then sings her song, "I Will Be Okay". Some people on tumblr have said that she is actively grieving her father even though he is still alive and her also planning on cutting ties with him. Those ideas make alot of sense and I like and support those ideas. Throughout the song however, we see these silhouette versions of Stolas and Blitz. These are representations of how she seems them. She sees her father leaving her behind for some porno fanfiction written by a virgin, and Blitz as one of the people destroying her life. She clearly hates him, and that is once again, understandable. She may not obviously have the full story due to being stuck with Stella and Andrealphys and hearing their versions of what happened, but she knows enough to the point that she hates Blitz and actively blames him for ruing her life more than it already hazbin. Get it? Hazbin? As in, hazbin hotel? The other show- AHEM- anyways- Her feelings are absolutely understandable and has every reason in the book of feeling the way she does. She already had a shitty life, and then it got shittier. Moving on, when Octavia's phone rings, Stella snatches it away and forbids her from talking to Stolas. Her and Andrealphys then make fun of the idea of him trying to even TALK to his daughter FOR ONCE. When Stolas returns to the castle, demanding to see Octavia, Andrealphys mocks him instead and gets his tail feathers pounded into the ground, which leads to a whole entire fight. At the end of fight when Andrealphys is about to attack Stolas and Blitz, Octavia steps in and deflects back at him and says "Don't. hurt. my. dad.". Once Andrelaphys storms off, Stolas goes to tell how proud of her he is and how he is sorry, and Octavia wants NONE OF IT. She is done with the apologies, the lies, the broken promises, the pain, and with his affair with Blitzø. She lashes out at him with the lines "I DO understand!", "Is that why you had these..!? Because of me..? Am I just some obligation to you...!?", and then "No! You don't love mother and you don't love me, you love him! We were never good enough for you!". Afterwards, she goes back inside, refusing to listen, and even look at him now.

In conclusion, Octavia has every right to be angry and to even go as far to HATE Stolas and Blitz. Before people say "But Stolas was miserable! He didn't mean to hurt Octavia and to make her life worse!". That doesn't matter. Just because he didn't mean to hurt her, doesn't mean it justifies his horrible decision making and him ultimately abandoning her for some utterly unrealistic fantasy. Octavia deserves an apology, a REAL apology and an explanation, not the shitty ones written by people that have never apologized in their lives and don't even know what the word means. As i have said before, her life was already bad enough, and in the process, Stolas made it worse. I am genuinely sick of people babying his character and defending him when his character is an ADULT who MADE the decision to sleep with BLITZØ in the first place. It's his decision, and these are the consequences, and the only way that his character can develop is by facing those consequences and moving past them, which many people seem to have a hard time understanding when writing characters. Not all issues with characters can just be sweeped under the rug, some actually need to be solved. Not to mention, Octavia gets even LESS SCREENTIME THAN MILLIE. And she is one of the main protagonist's daughters. She only has about 17 mintues of screen time in the ENTIRE SERIES, while Milie has over 20. Octavia's character is actively being WASTED and only being used for drama to keep the series going. Don't even get me started on the SHIPPING. There are people actively SHIPPING her with LOONA. If you couldn't tell, Loona is Blitz's adopted DAUGHTER. If Stolas and Blitzø ACTUALLY WORK OUT, that would make Octavia and Loona SISTERS. We also hardly know anything about her character other than her parents taking over the rest of it. Being associated with other characters isn't a personality trait. I also feel like alot of people would also feel angry if one of their parents put them through anything remotely like this. People have been bashing and hating on Octavia's character without justifying it or even explaining why. Everyoje knows that Helluva Boss and Hazbin Hotel have some of the worst fandoms to be seen with the human eye, which is where all of this hate came from, the FANDOM.

This is just an essay about my opinion on Octavia's character as a whole along with her connections to other characters and her writing. These are my opinions along with some others that I happen to agree with.

Thank you for coming to my ted talk

#instantfoxdonut #hazbin hotel #helluva boss #helluva boss season 2 #helluva boss season 1 #helluva boss Octavia #helluva boss stolas #helluva boss stella #helluva boss blitzø #helluva boss loona #helluva boss millie #helluva boss andrealphys #helluva boss seeing stars #helluva boss mastermind #helluva boss looloo land #helluva boss sinsmas #stolitz #rant post

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salty-autistic-writer · 3 days ago

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Tommy (solo or with your choice of partner) + journaling

Tommy stares at the text he just typed out, his heart racing as his thumb hovers over “send”. At the last moment, he decides: No. I can't do this.

He deletes the words again, his stomach sinking as the moment of courage he had dissolves.

It’s not the first time this has happened. Tommy blames the silence. It creeps into his mind which has gotten so used to listening to Evan talking. Where Evan’s voice once had been there’s now a void and something inside Tommy aches to fill it with words before it can consume him.

There's so much he wants to say. Needs to say. But he couldn’t say the words when he left Evan and he can't say them to the person he's sure hates him now.

The ache stays. Nags. Opens a wound and deepens it. So Tommy opens the notes app and writes it all down there.

Every thought he has about himself. Every apology that wants to pour out of him. Everything that’s wrong with him. Everything he didn’t manage to tell Evan and won’t ever tell because Evan deserves better.

I’m not a hero. I’ve never been a hero. I’ve always been a coward.

I’m an idiot.

I never wanted to hurt you too.

I miss you so much. Miss your smile, your eyes, the way you laugh, miss your warmth, miss the way your lips open and you don’t notice the world around you when you’re really focused, miss holding your hand at night, watching a movie with you, eating dinner with you and talking about the day. I miss you so much, I can barely breathe.

I hope you hate me. You should. You were so hopeful and honest when you said you wanted me to move in with you. And I am the coward who ran before he could see things happening because, in my experience, good things don’t last.

I’m not brave. Of course, you think I am. The truth is, I’ve always been hiding behind some kind of mask. Trying to pretend everything is alright. That I’m alright. I never wanted you to have to deal with all that baggage I’m carrying around. Now I wonder what you would have said if you caught a glimpse of it. It’s selfish, isn’t it? I wanted the good things. I didn’t want the bad things. But it should be both.

Sometimes I dream about going back to you. Asking you for another chance. Like you did. I wonder what you would say. In my dreams, you’re kind and understanding. Maybe I should try. What do I have to lose?

I’m sorry, Evan. * The sky is dark with smoke. Tommy wishes he could see the blue one more time.

Howie is not cracking jokes this time. Instead, he tells Tommy to hold on in a tense and focused voice.

Did my phone burn? Tommy wonders before he gives in and passes out. God. I hope so.

Thanks for asking! <3

(AO3 Link)

#bucktommy #ficlet friday #tommy kinard #evan buckley

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thedandelionresistance · 3 days ago

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We're a lot more active in fandom, and will say... erasure in fandom tends to be more about overall trends than individuals, in our experience.

It's not like there's never examples of "hey this person may be explicitly Unchill about this identity, based on the decisions they've made on how to write this character who is canonically or fanonically this identity.

But... there's a difference between, say, an aroace author taking a canonically aroace character and just,,, writing them partnering because they're a partnering aroace person, and allo people just not wanting to bother with a canon aroace character being aroace.

I even think that this goes for, say, changing the canon partnering status for your fic, because we have so little rep and quite frankly, no one ever seems to get as mad about the even fewer canon partnering aroace characters we have being made nonpartnering in fics as they do about the very few canon nonpartnering aroaces being made partnering (almost like the people loudly complaining about this thinks partnering makes you less aroace and are just aphobic).

With gender, this is even more true. Genderswaps have been a central part of fandom since fandom became a thing recognizable as such. Sure, it can be helpful to ask yourself why you're choosing to change even a canon identity, let alone running with your own headcanon that contradicts popular fanon, but even if you decided to explore a canon trans person being cisgender in any direction... that's what fanworks are for. Exploring, pushing the boundaries, trying things out.

You're not hurting anyone by playing with metaphorical paper dolls differently than the people around you. They're not even a limited resource - you can rip them up into pieces and turn them into horrific collage-monster parodies of their original identities, so to speak. You can make them kiss or bonk... other things 🫣 (/silly). You can pick them up, line them in a row, and set them back down, metaphorically.

Before I realized I was genderfluid, I used to write a canon they/them user as using different pronouns in different timelines, bc they were essentially different iterations of what was me projecting my own genderfluidity onto them in the only way I felt safe and comfortable doing so. I've been accused of misgendering the introjects/soulbonds of those characters who were my headmates, because they are canon-deviant. Which, by the way - canon deviance and defiance is a huge part of fandom. People can get weird about it with marginalized identities because fandom can be shitty about marginalized identities, sure, but... not every case is people being shitty.

It's good to check in on your motives every now and then, and listen to the critiques people make of larger trends towards characters with marginalized identities. But at the end of the day, trust yourself too, and have fun playing around with your metaphorical dolls and playsets ^^

okay i’ve been wondering about this for a while. i’ve seen a lot of fandom discourse that headcanoning a character who’s commonly accepted as transfem in fandom as a genderweird trans in all directions nb person is transfem erasure. is this true? i haven’t really thought so‚ but i might just be biased as a nb transmasc myself. (common examples include john egbert)

hello there, thanks for stopping by!

i am definitely the wrong person to ask about this, i am very sorry. i do not participate in fandom at all, i don't engage with much fiction and when i do, i don't get into it that much. my brain doesn't really latch on to fiction like it did when i was a kid. i still play games and watch anime here and there but i don't interact with fandoms, so i apologize for that. i find them to be genuinely uncomfortable and unsafe environments to be in due to being intersex and biracial. fandom spaces unfortunately tend to be extremely racist & intersexist. i had friends who were heavily involved in fandom as a teenager and i felt very unsafe due to the sheer amount of fetishiziation of intersex bodies that goes on in fandom spaces.

this is simply an outsider's perspective, but i don't really see fandoms as "representation" that can be "erased" because it's all conjecture and everyone has such wildly different opinions on what a character is or is not. it's not representation if it's not confirmed. if it's just a headcanon it's not representation, as it was not confirmed and thus is conjecture and speculation. i might be wildly off base as an outsider, but i always kinda thought the point of fandom was for everyone to express how they interact with that piece of media uniquely, and spread and share their thoughts and opinions? why are people trying to control how other people interact with a piece of fiction that they did not make...?

that seems antithetical to the idea of fandom. i thought it was supposed to be a fun hobby? again maybe i just *don't* get it as an outsider, but it makes no sense to me to try to control someone else's internal opinion on something that quite literally is not real. like at the end of the day none of these people are real, you can't hurt their feelings you're not 'erasing' anyone here, they're literally not real, and if it's only a headcanon that that person is transfem... then you're not. erasing. a transfem character, it's just conjecture. it doesn't matter what gender or sexuality you see them as because you're free to think and feel those ways in your head. you're allowed to engage in those thought experiments because that person quite literally is not real so it's okay to speculate on their identity. it's not okay to do this to another live person but if they're fictional who... cares?

this may sound really harsh but i need to stress to people that fictional characters are not real human beings, and stressing out over their genders or sexuality does nothing to help you. you can't hurt their feelings. you can't erase a transfem that isn't confirmed to be transfem. a headcanon is just that: a personal opinion. it shouldn't come to the point where it causes distress and fighting. this is a hobby, it is not one's entire life. i would recommend just blocking and not engaging with people who try to police how you interact with leisure behaviors. i don't think there's one true way to be "Right" about these kinds of things because it's literally all conjecture

also sorry, i have no idea who that character is! i don't know very many fictional characters by name so i can't lend any input there, apologies. for the future, if anyone is curious about my feelings on these sorts of things about other characters, i unfortunately cannot help you as there's a near 100% chance i am not familiar with them and can't lend any input

how can an opinion be right or wrong ... ? that just doesn't make sense to me. it's all opinion. it's not worth hurting other people over or yelling at each other. i'm sorry that i can't give you a more informed opinion, but i thought maybe an outsider's perspective could help somewhat. i hope this is somewhat informative or helpful to you at all- i honestly don't think it's right for people to try to control each others' headcanons because that is quite literally thought policing and i am not here for that. anyway, take care of yourself! thanks for stopping by :)

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astracora · 1 month ago

Text

A Mandated Holiday Break - Chapter 7

Characters: Sylus x gn!mc (poly lads)

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1554

Written: 22nd December 2024

Notes: Post-relationship Sylus/MC-centric but poly LADs, with my personal pov of the game and lil headcanons littered in.

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11

Masterlist AO3

He's been relegated to picking up supplies. You'd thrust a list at him that morning, and he'd almost seen a tail behind you, flicking and curling like a question mark.

It isn't the first time you've had him wrapped around your finger, requesting his assistance. Normally you only ask when you're sick, desperate for supplies and he's available. (He'll always be available.)

Still, this time you've handed him a list for crafts, shoved him from his own base, and you peppered his face in kisses before he can even respond or argue.

Not that he would, but he wishes you would at least come shopping with him. He's found himself enjoying the domesticity of you puttering around aisles while he pushes a trolley. If he takes his eyes off you, you'll steal the trolley and go skidding down an empty aisle.

Which is how he stands now, in the living room of his base, hands full of arts and crafts supplies, while he stares at a tree he doesn't remember buying.

It's twinkling with lights half done, but otherwise it bears no decoration. The twins are balancing on each other's shoulders trying to throw the multicoloured flashing lights up towards the top of it. You're there underneath, ready to catch them if them.

He's pretty sure someone's going to end up with a broken bone. (Which he does not want to explain to the doctor.)

With a flick of his finger, black and red swirling mist quickly remove lights from hands and twist them around the top of the tree. Gently, and carefully.

He's only slightly smug, smirk in full, when you turn to him in surprise. He's even more smug when your face instantly warms, eyes twinkling at him.

If he were really a crow, his feathers would poof up and he'd preen. Instead he wipes his hand on his shirt collar and extends the bags he's holding, "For you, kitten."

Your whirlwind of activity rushes over, the twins wobbling before they manage to detangle themselves, grabbing at the bag and pulling them to the floor. Separating things out.

He watches absently, but you're focused and tapping on your chin as you think, so he abandons you to your considerations to make himself useful. Warm drinks in hand before he returns to you.

Sylus finds you showing the twins how to fold and make ornaments with coloured paper. He hesitates at the door, if you had wanted ornaments, why did you not just ask for them? He could have ordered any number. Any colour. Anything you wanted.

He's again unsettled by a strange uncomfortable dissatisfaction, you do not make it easy to provide for you. To satisfy every desire. He wonders how you became someone who holds them so close to the chest, scared to want, all over again. He offers hot chocolate to the twins, and frothed coffee to you, (the smell never gets better), before sitting next to you on the floor, cross legged and curious.

You look over and grin, and for a second he sees ears tilting forwards in mischief, pupils blown and ready to pounce. "We didn't have a lot growing up, so me and Caleb would make ornaments for the tree with Gran. The twins wanted to try..." there's a question there that you want to ask but you can't quite... get the words out.

He can read you well enough to know the hesitation, and he leans in, voice low, fingers brushing your cheek, "Show me."

Sylus prides himself on learning, he's good at picking up skills, but he cannot be said to be creative. He is, however, good at following steps. He does, however, enjoy trying.

It's not a new skill that will be useful for anything other than moments like this, but truthfully if he only ever learned skills for moments like this, he'd be a happier fiend than he has any right to.

The twins decide to get pens and decorate the shapes he folds, while you sit nearby fretting over a new challenge. He finds himself looking over and peering but you catch him and point at his hands in an unspoken order. Focus.

He chuckles, only you would dare to order him about, and only you would gain his obedience as he follows your orders.

As they end up with a pile of... he's not sure he'd call anything he and the twins have made art, the fish would surely have something to say if he tried, he already dreads the upcoming conversation, but you're thrilled and excited as you come over to look. Picking up paper baubles and stars that the twins have drawn silly faces on.

There's a happy flush to Luke and Kieran's face as you wholeheartedly approve, and he swallows a lump in his throat that he doesn't really understand. Yet he wants to cry, he thinks, and he's not really sure why. Or what caused it.

He doesn't linger, doesn't have time, as you're pushing him towards the tree, "You get the top, Luke, middle, Kieran, bottom." Then you're running off.

He's starting to think the holidays are a little too much trouble... (Warm, vibrant, comforting.) That lilting voice that sounds like yours again.

Your soul is always so noisy, he muses, warmed and placated.

They're almost done when you come back, this time you're not as energetic. There's waves coming off you, nerves and anxiety rippling under skin. He pauses, where he's about to hang a star, and looks down at you. As soon as he does you swallow, shoving a cardboard box into his arms.

Not a box? It has numbers on it?

"We-" you swallow past the nerves and push on. Ever ready to fight a monster. Even if the monster is yourself, "also used to make calendars for each other. It's late, so it's only twelve days." He catches your hand before it scratches at your arm, smoothing his thumb over your fingers and then rubbing circles into your palm. He blinks down at the thing, and sees today. He drops the star he's holding unceremoniously and presses the little cardboard flap open.

The calendar is decorated with a picture of a crow surrounded by presents. He remembers the fish encouraging your artistic pursuits, and while he's not sure if it's good, he never seems to be sure if it's good... he knows he likes it.

Inside is a hand wrapped chocolate and a small note.

Day one - A reminder that I love you, and appreciate you always, thank you Sylus.

You're still fidgeting, and at this point the twins have peeked their heads over to stare at his bounty. The longer he stares, the more he realises he has to speak, has to respond but his throat feels closed and his chest is so tight. It hurts. It hurts.

"If it's stupid you don't have to-"

He drops his calendar and he presses you into his chest. He's sure if he were better practiced in his emotions he'd cry. Instead he just encompasses you in his body, squeezing and holding and drowning in you. He nips at your cheek, hand squeezing your face, he wants to bite and chew and claw and scratch.

He can't understand and he doesn't want to hurt, but he breathes you in. Relieved he has no tail to betray him, wagging furiously. You're giggling at his reaction, trying to pull away from his rough handling, calling his name out like knives in his heart, and he finally kisses you. Over and over and over. Tasting his name on your lips and your love in his heart.

Then he startles, pulling away quickly to see that thankfully the twins had caught his gift, the note and the chocolate. Placing it on the side. They're giving him a look like he's a fool, he might be, because he has an evol that can move things for him. Instead his foolish body betrayed him.

"Hunter! Do we get one?" Luke calls, pouting, and you keep a hold on Sylus' hand. Grounding him as he looks at your note over and over, pressing your thumb into his wrist, and smoothing his rapid uneven heartbeat there.

Still you extend a makeshift calendar to the twins, one each, identical except for the names. He can tell that you'd been careful to match every line. "Of course."

He absently notes that you've left four more on the side. The fish, the doctor, the prince and an untouched one for your family. The note is finally placed in his pocket, right over his heart, where he knows he'll keep it until it's worn and unreadable. Not that it matters, because he'll remember it always.

As you watch him smooth his fingers over it, you laugh, "You know there's eleven more days of those right?" Your nerves are still simmering, he can tell, but you're thrilled for his reaction and eased with his earnestness and joy. He lets your words settle and then darts to the calendar on the side, he hears the twins opening theirs but barely cares.

You panic when you realise he's going to just tear the thing open for more of your feelings recorded in pretty stationary paper, before you throw yourself at his back, "Sylus! No! They're for other days!"

#wonder writes #love and deepspace #sylus #lads sylus #lads x reader #lads x mc #sylus x reader #reader x sylus #lads #love and deepspace sylus #a mandated Christmas break #so... I'll be real. is lads a utopia cause I need to know how the old lady who experimented for ever and may or may not have been in hiding #had enough for a fancy house #so in my mind she had money hidden away to build a new life #but in general wasn't wealthy by any standard #mostly cause I grew up poor and I adore the idea of Caleb and MC trying to make josie happy with handmade gifts #and handmade things because it meant they strained the woman who raised them less #anyway tldr #the kids were poor.#also if you want to know what I have written down for the other day 1 calendars #Luke: your humour and laughter brightens any room #Kieran: your smarts and quick thinking make any challenge fun #Xavier: thank you for always lighting up the dark #Raffy: your passionate heart and creative hand make days better #Zayne: thank you for protecting my heart every day in every way #also I totally ascribe sylus to my level of patience #I can wait years for something but the second that I get an announcement that it's soon. I need it NOW

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